


Paper Heart

by kiboutozetsubou



Series: Kamukoma Week 2019 [4]
Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Human Komaeda, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Vampire Izuru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 04:21:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18613036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiboutozetsubou/pseuds/kiboutozetsubou
Summary: Kamukoma Week Day Four - Supernatural BeingsNagito Komaeda is fragile.





	Paper Heart

**Author's Note:**

> i s2g i made this sound kinda like twilight accidentally fkfksfjkjd
> 
> hopefully its better than that

Nagito Komaeda is fragile.

He is even by human standards, but the slightness of his frame, the pallid paleness of his easily-bruised skin—it’s even more striking for someone like Kamukura. If he did not have a century of carefully crafted self-control under his belt, it would be all too easy to misjudge his strength and crush those delicate bones under his grip.

Komaeda isn’t ever afraid of him, but Kamukura doesn’t think this is because he trusts that he won’t hurt him; with someone like Komaeda, it’s more likely that he doesn’t care either way.

Regardless, his touch is always feather-light, as gentle as though he were handling glass. His hands ghost along porcelain skin, the faint, rapid thrumming of a heartbeat against his fingers, like the fluttering of a tiny bird’s wings.

He’s fascinated by that heartbeat, because he doesn’t have one himself, and because the blood that’s pulsing through with every beat seems to hold so much power over him.

Kamukura never saw feeding as anything more than a necessity. He did it because he had to in order to live, but he never derived any joy from it. With Komaeda, it’s different. His blood is like honey on Kamukura’s tongue, and the sensation, the act of feeding from him is more pleasurable than he ever thought possible.

Which is why Kamukura refrains from doing it as much as he can.

“Kamukura-kun…” Komaeda wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Even if Kamukura stops breathing he can still taste the sweet scent in the air, of the blood humming just beneath his skin. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Kamukura tries to ignore him, but he can’t deny it. He hasn’t eaten in days, and being pressed up so close like this, that irresistible smell all around them, he’s sure Komaeda can see the hunger in his eyes no matter how he tries to conceal it.

“You know I don’t mind.” Komaeda’s hand traces his jaw. Kamukura resists the urge to grab it, turn his face into his wrist and mouth at the blue veins there. “That might be a little bit of an understatement, actually. I love it when you feed from me. And I don’t like it when you have to find somebody else.” His mouth turns into a frown at that.

He’s so shameless about it. With such a blatant disregard for his own well-being or safety. Kamukura doesn’t like it when he has to prowl the streets at night for random strangers to assault and feed off of, either. There’s nothing enjoyable about it, but it’s safer than the alternative.

He still doesn’t say anything, but Komaeda knows what he’s thinking about. His expression softens into a gentle smile, and he takes one of Kamukura’s hands in his, guiding it to his own neck, pressing fingers to his pulse. “You won’t hurt me,” he says, eyes bright and eager and with not a single hint of fear.

Kamukura lowers him down on the bed, as slowly and gently as he can, looming over him. Komaeda’s smile turns triumphant as his hair splays out against the blankets, his arms going to wrap around Kamukura’s neck again. His head tilts to the side, exposing his neck.

Kamukura breathes in again and the scent hits him so hard he feels dizzy. He has years of that carefully crafted self-control, but the longing that hums deep in his very being when he smells Komaeda’s blood terrifies him.

He worries that he’ll start drinking, and won’t be able to stop. Or he’ll be so lost in the act, he’ll forget his own strength. None of this has ever happened, but for someone normally so detached to any kind of emotion or need, this feeling is unpredictable.

Even knowing this doesn’t stop him from lowering his head and sinking his fangs into pale, paper-thin skin. The noise Komaeda makes is not one of pain. The taste is divine. His head swims and his thoughts blur, and sometimes he feels like he’s been poisoned, like he’s dying, but it’s a death so sweet and euphoric that he doesn’t care at all.

Komaeda never tells him to stop or that he may be taking too much, and he doesn’t want to risk it, so he always pulls away even before he’s had his fill. Years of feeding has given Kamukura an idea of how much blood can be taken from a human before they pass out, but Komaeda is fragile even by human standards. Even if he weren’t, he’s not going to take the chance.

When he pulls away, Komaeda pulls him back in for a kiss. He knows there’s blood in his mouth and that the taste isn’t pleasant to humans, but Komaeda clearly isn’t bothered.

Kamukura takes care that his fangs won’t cut Komaeda’s lip as their mouths and tongues clash. He also takes care that his hands are steady and controlled where they touch the body underneath of him. As they hastily strip from their clothes, as their bodies press against each other and meld together, he never forgets the feeling that he’s handling something uniquely precious, a gossamer thread spun between his fingers, as beautiful as it is fleeting.

Afterward, they lay together and Komaeda’s smile is satisfied as he drifts off to sleep. Kamukura watches him. He doesn’t know how long it is that he simply stares at the rising and falling of Komaeda’s chest before he pulls him closer, resting his head against Komaeda’s heart.

He falls asleep to the sound and feeling of the heart beating against his ear, knowing that as much as he fears it, he cherishes the life that it keeps here with him.


End file.
